Touch of Flame
by Kuroitsuki
Summary: Another Black Waltz fic, in the style of Tool of Destruction. This one centers on Black Waltz no. 2 (you don't see too many of these!), and tells his story. Completed...
1. Frustration

Final Fantasy IX belongs to Squaresoft. I don't work for Squaresoft, 'cause they don't hire kids. The characters belong to Squaresoft. The money belongs to Squaresoft. My brains belong to me!

Whoo! Kuroi's still alive and kicking, and she decided to write stuff for Black Waltz 2-kun. Yaaay! The guy's awfully neglected, and so I feel it is my duty to write fics for him. If you've read my "Tool of Destruction", you'll get the general idea of the way this one will flow. Because we know so little about 2-kun, I'll have a lot more liberty with it. ^^ Let me know if you think it's any good!

---

It was like being born out of the arms of heaven into the land of brilliance itself. Everything was alive and glowing, pulsing with happiness, radiating an aura of complete and total perfection to every corner of the world. The blood of the universe flowed in pale pearl rivers, and the breath of the constellations puffed lazily across the faded sapphire sky. Drops of liquid diamond danced upon the beautiful breeze, seeking something or someone out at the edge of existence. The white sun's smile touched everything...

He was given only a few moments before the utopia began to sink away. At first he was puzzled, gazing in awe upon the silvery completeness rapidly being replaced by total darkness. It was being taken against his will. He tried to follow it, but the blackness made shackles around his wrists and ankles. He screamed, struggling against the supreme power, wishing after the holy grounds shrinking away.

The darkness allowed him to fight for a while, then smote him over the head with a club of ferocious flame. The last twinkles of the land beyond faded away, and he kept screaming, writhing, trying to pull his hands away. He closed his eyes against an intense heat that was beginning to reach out to him, a wicked fire licking with its cruel sweetness at his face, closing its razor-sharp claws around his legs, and creeping up his body, embracing him in its destruction, smiling at his wails of pain. He did not give up, but kept straining against it, exhausting himself in a desperate attempt to free himself from those hateful rays. Every ounce of energy he put out was gathered up and returned by the fire, which grew in strength, and he at last forced himself into oblivion, a pitiful creature melting before the supreme power.

In unconsciousness, he could not sense the specks of silvery blackness creeping into his cage. They peppered the fire, flavoring it, having it cook him to their very specific tastes. Those little points of evil were much more potent than they first seemed, and they were intent on fulfilling their task.

_Dare not cry, little one. You will not be weak. Dare not open yourself to existence. You will learn to obey._

There was nothing more he could do, and smoldered silently in the smoke of nonexistence, painted by darkness to become an especially black creation.

*~*

Graceful fingers brushed away a lock of silvery hair. A slight frown was set into that pale face, the violet eyes glinting with a mixture of worry and disappointment. Kuja was not pleased with the creature's reaction to reality. Perhaps he had succeeded in infusing _power_ into this one, judging from its ability to expend energy, but a vital element... stability... was missing. If this creature continued to behave like that, it would someday bring its own bloody destruction upon itself...

But it had been an improvement from the other three attempts. The first was weak, and took time to develop, when Kuja needed a great army immediately. His second attempt was a stronger creature with a brief lifespan, lasting just long enough to serve the purpose he had created them for. He had then realized he needed a combination of the two... something strong that could grow and become even more powerful. His first attempt at this hybrid of abilities had been an utter failure. Well... perhaps he had learned something from the construction of that disaster, and had put those values missing into this model. The creature was still small, but that would change once it was exposed to the open air, and its growth was stimulated. The small and fragile limbs would become sturdy and powerful. The heart and lungs would grow strong after being forced to struggle through a life of hardships. The black magic pulsing within the newborn creature would grow and develop, as well...

Yet... without that needed stability, it might grow in directions Kuja did not intend it to...

This one was much more handsome than those preceding it. It was more slender, more gracefully built, its form even, without the knots or sharp angles that were present in the others. After the awful cripple Kuja had seen before, he had become determined that all his mages would stand straight. Kuja had also modified another aspect of the previous hybrid's design: the wings. Beautiful raven wings were set upon the shoulders of this creation, large and magnificently constructed, each feather molded perfectly and sewn together to create a delicious explosion of blue and black. The faults of the first hybrid's wings were all remedied, and its wings were now glorious. Kuja would have liked to have those wings.

Kuja contemplated his creature for a little while longer. Perhaps it could be considered a success... but there was still that fatal flaw that had caused the poor fool to knock himself out. He could not stop with two...

*~*

Time passed. He continued fighting the fire until at last he was forced to give up or kill himself. Then he began watching the strange, drifting souls outside through the bluish field that held him away from a new world, like the land of moonlight flowers he had almost forgotten in his struggles. That world was filled with mysteries he couldn't understand, and hardly tried to, in his exhaustion. Even as his strength returned, he was not too interested in the peculiar motions beyond the barrier, for it was a totally different dimension. He waited, though he wasn't sure what it was for. Something buried in his memories yearned for the silver heaven, and was presented with something very different.

It was a terrible shock into reality. His little world began to tremble violently, making his head spin and his consciousness grow muddled. Something was sucking him forward and backwards at the same time, and he tried to scream again, choking when what he inhaled was not the heavy substance he had spent his beginnings in.

Air.

He was tossed into the air. Everything became a fireworks show of exploding pain. Points at the sides of his head throbbed with pain, and his sensitive virgin skin burst into flames in the extreme heat. He was still struggling with that strange, thin, fiercely hot substance he had tried to swallow, and spat out a mouthful of Mist, now gaseous, and tried vainly to breathe the soft layers of absurdly weak air. Flames kept stabbing at him cruelly, laughing at his predicament, and he kept trying to scream, blinded.

The pain did not go away, but it seemed that his sanity returned. Though he was tossed into chaos, he somehow could still cling to what he knew... He was being starved of air. He ceased his frenzied gasping and made an effort to regulate his breathing. Some instinct that Kuja had sewn into his subconscious told him to stand, and he alerted the nerves that ran along his legs. Yet he was still too weak to move them, and he found himself straining against the chains binding him down once again. But this was a different force...

His sight was just returning, and he saw something framed with the streaming silver of his memories, creating some soft, pulsing energy that sent small shocks through his head. Noises came out of it that he would perceive, but not understand.

"He has strength, but he doesn't know what to do with it..."

Strange, unknown colors were just becoming visible to him, but he was losing the field as quickly as he was gaining the ability to recognize its details. His despair lashed out hopelessly as this wondrous new world sank away, as his utopia had before it.

"Poor little fool, Black Waltz no. 2."

He blacked out.

---

Please review. It'll help me to continue a lot. It'll also help my self-esteem, which could really use a boost. oO; Anywhoo... Read me! Review me! I can provide you with fics on (almost) anything! I am Kuroi Mahotsukai. Find me, and send me emails. (Sooo sorry... I've been replaying Legend of Mana and couldn't resist! ^^;)


	2. Self

Insert disclaimer from Chapter 1 here.

After grappling with my writer's block, finals, a terrible word processor, and a bad cold, I managed to get Chapter 2 done. It's a lot longer than I thought it would be! This covers 2-kun's "training" and such... well, enjoy.

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Despite the pain it brought him, he was grateful for the ability to hear. He lay still, only half awake, listening to the soft noises traveling through the thin air. Sound came at different pitches, sometimes repeating, or tiptoeing up the scale. He glowed with happiness when he recognized the silver light that lay sewn into the lining of the beautiful noises, and looked up.

It was not his silver heaven, but a small, warm, somewhat stuffy room with the dullest colors of paint on the walls. Nevertheless, Two was fascinated, and looked around in awe, brilliant eyes wide. He had never grappled with the idea of a box before, and was astounded by the sharp corners and symmetry of the room. The solid softness of whatever he lay on was peculiar and new as well, and he summoned the strength to lift an arm and poke at a soft lump sitting beneath his head. It supported him, but withdrew sharply from this assault. He kept poking at it for a while, then shifted his attention to a bright stream of color coming out from one of the walls.

The ray was neither angular nor curved, and seemed too thick to be air, and too light to be water. It was its own material, passing through the lines of dust that drifted through the air, making its own strange patterns and performing its own dance. It attracted Two like a magnet, and he tumbled to the floor and awkwardly scrambled towards it. He fell into the square it made on the floor and felt a peculiar warmth on the back of his neck, and drew himself up to look through the tunnel of gentle heat towards the source of the beam. The source was far too bright to look at directly, but he turned his head slightly and observed it, mesmerized, feeling the sparks glancing off his wings.

This light was gold, not silver, but still magnificent.

Smiling was new to him, and it was pleasant to do. He opened his hands and let the sunlight flow into them, and spun around, his robes whirling, almost laughing with delight. He ignored the painful protests of his sore muscles, far too absorbed in admiring the glorious morning to spend time crying over his birth. He deeply inhaled, breezes of life flowing into him with the burning, thin air.

The sound of the door opening drew him out of his trance. He looked over his shoulder, partially annoyed, and then stared in surprise at the strange soul that had invaded the box. Tall to him, clad in shimmering, glinting metal, with a cascade of soft amber around a curious, naked face. The eyes were a soft brown and... dull. Had he a few more days' knowledge, he would have cringed in disgust, but instead he gazed curiously at the soldier, not knowing exactly what to make of her. A few others similar to, but not exactly like her floated in, and she turned to speak with them for a moment. They nodded, and she turned back to him. Her teeth were bared in a peculiar smile, and some instinct pressed deep into Two's mind told him to dread it.

"Come here, little one," she said, her voice flat and terrible on his ears, "Come on. Don't be afraid." That wicked smile deepened and she opened her arms.

Two backed away, his gaze of curiosity turning into one of anxious loathing. She stepped closer, and he pressed his wings up against the glass letting the sunlight in. Having him so cornered, she reached out to him, presenting an seemingly innocent, bare hand, without the heavy protective glove, whose intention was to seize him by the collar and drag him off to the dark destination Kuja had told them to take him.

It was so close to his face...

_NO DON'T---_

He was threatened and afraid, and reacted as any small, frightened, confused creature would. When the hand drew too close, he leapt forward and sank his teeth into it. The guard let out a piercing scream, and he hung on bitterly until she shook him off, glaring and hissing at him like an angry cat. He drew his feet under him, looking back at her with deep dislike. Minute drops of blood were tossed off her hand as she held it, trembling, snarling and cursing the little brute who met her furious eyes with a look of contempt.

The three that had followed her seemed almost amused by the show, and parted to let her stomp away, fuming. They looked at each other and peered at the little fighter, who sat back beneath the window, daring them to try the same with his gaze, while still shaking with a touch of fear. One of them who seemed a little braver beckoned, but he did not recognize the gesture and stayed where he was.

Then one stepped forward, smiling differently than the one who had come before her, and offered her (gloved) hand. He looked her over, not getting the antagonistic feeling he felt rolling off the first guard, and relaxed just a little. When she spoke, her voice was sweet and musical, and he instantly decided he liked it. "Don't you want to come with us? I'll carry you. Don't worry, we're not going to hurt you..." She took his little hand, and drew him towards her, and he obediently followed. She then gently picked him up with a little grunt and held him to her. He blinked several times, surprised, and she giggled softly before setting off with the other two towards a dark passage leading into the bowels of the castle.

*~*

Two had not expected to be set down so suddenly, and plopped down in a little heap in the dust. By the time he had pulled himself up and shaken the filthy powder out of his sleeves, the gate on his side of the little square arena had been shut tight.

He was not really afraid of being left alone, as he had never seen why it was a threat, and so curiously took in his surroundings. The dusty box was bordered with a large, pale gray wall, on top of which were many rows of red velvet seats. Most of them held only ghosts, but in one there was a strangely familiar figure, leaning back, with his legs crossed, and his silky clothing laying only lightly on him. His hair was made up of feather ribbons of silver, and Two drew his breath in sharply with recognition of that shade. The soul's violet eyes were half closed, eyelids painted with a haunting red stripe, and he was smiling very slightly. He seemed to stir at the little mage's entrance, and sat up, folding his arms. His voice was very soft, but it echoed through the great room.

"What are you waiting for? Let it in."

The opposite gates creaked open slowly, and Two looked at them, puzzled. Behind them was a cage that contained a mess of screaming feathers that two guards were reluctantly manning. Wings beat furiously at the bars, and the door suddenly flew open, letting its quarry escape, shrieking its vengeance to the sky it could not find. Enraged, it whirled around, looking for a target, its gaze missing passive Kuja altogether, and focusing on the small mage. Its cries rose, and it dove.

A Trick Sparrow is not a very frightening thing for a seasoned warrior, who would stave it off with a simple flick of a sword, but to Two it was the most horrifying, terrible creature he could possibly meet. He did not know what to make of this attack, but a subtle command laid gently into his mind spurred him to get out of the way. He ran, hearing the Sparrow scream with anguish as its claws met nothing but the dust of the pit. He would have liked to keep running, but there was nowhere to flee too, and he turned back to his antagonist, his expression becoming a slight grimace. When it charged him this time, he brought his arm up in defense, and gasped with surprise as the sharp weapons of the monster cut through his sleeve and skin. Hissing furiously, he stepped back, grabbing the wound and glaring at the Sparrow, his rage rising in him.

He dodged the next attack, his anger building. He was filled with a deep desire to pay the foolish monster back for its actions, but had no idea how he was to go about doing that; he could not simply bite it, and he had no talons and beak. He was a creature born without a way to defend himself...

"Come come," Kuja whispered from his perch above the two adversaries. "No games. Let me see your strength..."

As the Sparrow dove for him again, something clicked, and his eyes narrowed with renewed determination.

_Strength..._

He ducked its attack, then whirled on it and lashed out at it. He did not strike it hard, but it was knocked off balance and surprised. He then leapt at it, his fury blazing uncontrollably, and beat at it, driving a fist into its truly fragile frame and then raking his other hand against it, catching it and hurling it against a wall. He found his balance again and felt a little touch of pleasure as it crumpled at the base of the wall, keeping his fingers curved, to serve as his own claws, wings tense and trembling slightly. It drew up and charged him again, but he did not feel its attacks, only the burning desire to return the pain.

He felt Kuja smiling behind him. "Let it die... show it your power, and kill it as brutally as you can..."

Two did not react with fear as his hands began to throb with pain again, for he knew the source of that agony. He remembered the pain of ancient times, and that mad smile returned to his lips as pure fire spilled from his hands. He looked at the Sparrow, relishing in its look of surprise and terror, and faced his palms to it.

Ultimate vengeance for the pain it inflicted on him...

_...Kill!_

White-hot flame exploded towards it, catching it in a mighty blast of power. Its dying shriek reached beyond the walls of the arena, and Two grinned insanely, satisfied it had at least suffered as much as he had. Kuja's soft laughter showed he was just as pleased with the lump of burning feathers and flesh that had collapsed on the ground and begun to stink horribly. "Good, very good," that silvery voice echoed, and the little winged mage glowed. He had expended so much energy he was ready to fall over backwards in a dead faint, but was satisfied that he could be so strong. He preferred to be strong.

*~*

Two was so startled to find a wall of silver in his little box-room that he ignored the biting pain in all his wounds and scrambled to stand before it. It was extremely colorful while still having a constant silver laying behind it, the shapes moving as he looked to find a better angle to observe it.

He thought at first it must have been a window to another world. He could not reach through to the other world, though, a cool barrier stopping him and leaving an icky imprint where he had touched it. He contented himself with gazing at it curiously, and danced before it, watching the colors shift in reaction to his movements.

He stopped frolicking so carelessly after a while, and paused to check it seriously. He found a shape in the other world mimicked his movements, and was amazed to see it knew exactly when and how he moved his hand, or changed his gaze. The image he saw puzzled him. The other world was just like his box-room, but there was a small creature, upright, like the guards and the mysterious Kuja, dressed in a long teal robe that trailed on the floor. Pale purple gloves covered its small hands. Its face was not cold and exposed like those of the other souls, but shielded by unnaturally dark shadows cast by the oversized hat it wore. The hat itself was straw, made perfectly with a wide brim and two almost demon-like prongs. All that was visible beneath its protective darkness were two large, brilliant yellow eyes, glittering with curiosity and a touch of confusion.

Two marveled at this for a moment, then brought his arm at an angle with the silver wall to look up the creature's sleeve. He turned before it, and noticed the creature's wings, bursting from the shoulders, darker than those of the Trick Sparrow and far more beautiful. He smiled a little, and struggled to spread them wider, so he could scrutinize every feather.

How handsome and wonderful this creature of darkness was! Two laughed, admiring the brave mage's battle scars, making himself stand straighter and watching the figure's eyes glow brighter with pride. He drew up close to the mirror, delighted... and grasped the brim of his hat, to pull it off and gaze upon what lay below with love.

---

Will ya review it and make my day better, brighter, and blissful? C'mon, people, pleeeeeease? *pleading puppy eyes* Or Two-kunn wiww be sad!


	3. Voice

Um, yeah. Black Waltz no. 2, Kuja, the Alexandrian Guards, Alexandria itself, and all that are in any way associtated with them belong to Squaresoft. No one owns the sunrise, though, and no one own genius.

Well, I was inspired after my English final to go home and write chapter 3. It turned out okay, actually, though it feels kinda thin. Anyhow, read on!

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The little dark angel fluttered between the shadows and the light, eyes glittering beneath their shroud of darkness. From somewhere beneath there rang the sweet notes of song, and a secret smile grew as he glowed with delight at being able to stir the magic of music. The strange, foreign words spilled off his tongue, having no meaning to him but their pitch and place in the melody, serving no purpose other than creating the sound for the music to be built off of.

The guards had asked permission from Kuja to allow him to wander the halls of Alexandria Castle, because he grew destructive when locked in his room alone. The constant battles in the dungeon helped to relieve some of his tense energy, but he could not sit quietly with nothing to do, or kill. Kuja had hesitantly agreed, though he warned the guards that it was vitally important that Two not stray from that wing of the castle and mess with the development of the others. The little mage had no understanding of the orders, but nodded like a good child when spoken to and then ran off to dance beneath the giant windows. The first rays of the sun shone directly into the halls on that side of the castle, and he would always try to be the first to hold the newborn beams of light of the waking day.

He frolicked in the sunlight and sang his soft, half-meaningless song. The first time he had heard it was the second day he had been able to hear, and there was something familiar about its silvery quality, but he couldn't quite remember what it was. Now all he loved was gold, the glinting rays of morning light, and the intense, dark red of raging fire. But still, the sweet and soothing coolness of the silver calm that song evoked tasted lovely and stirred old, faded memories of a perfect haven for tired soldiers.

The night before had been filled with pain and anguish, but the small mage seemed to have totally forgotten the ordeal and become completely absorbed in chasing the sparks of sunlight across the carpet. He stumbled a few times, but kept running, as close to blissfully happy as he could possibly be. What he was seeking was the giant window set into the wall of one of the lounges, which framed the entire sunrise and could hold his interest for hours while he half-sat on his legs and leaned forward on his hands, eyes as brilliant as the spectacular show of lights. When he slid into a trance like that, with the sun beating ruthlessly on the barrier of shadows beneath his hat, it was possible to sneak up to him and see the outline of a face that might become a handsome young man's in due time.

He at last reached the lounge, breathless, and gazed out at the golden shimmer on the horizon. He placed a small hand over his heart and felt it beating rapidly, only partly because of his rush. Two's smile grew smaller and quieter as he slid into rapture at the sight of the sweet sunrise beyond the mountains and sea. He was so absorbed in admiring it that he did not notice the soft click of boots on the floor behind him.

The sun's streaming gold could paint everything in the room except the pure silver of that figure's flowing hair and the deep violet of his eyes. Kuja stood in defiance of its light, watching the little mage in his stillness with a slight touch of cold amusement in his expression. After a moment Two gave a sigh and relaxed his wings, beginning to let the words of the song spill out again in gentle rhythms.

Kuja let him sing for a moment, then interrupted. "I am pleased you have found your voice," he called quietly, letting his own slide out gracefully between his teeth. Two started and whirled around, staring at the invader with a mixture of frightened surprise and resentment. His expression changed a little when he recognized Kuja, but not for the better. The silvery warrior chuckled softly and began toying with a feathery lock of hair before continuing. "It is good that you are speaking, but I would prefer if you didn't do it to a tune."

From the innocent, uncomprehending look Two gave him, Kuja decided the mage did not understand. The silver one just gave a slight sinister smile and looked his creation over. The mage had grown since his first battle, with a few more measures of height and a little of the childish cuteness gone from his frame. There was about ten more years of growing to squeeze into a month or so, however, in both the mind and body of the incomplete weapon. And though Kuja had already instilled the beginning of blood lust in the creature's consciousness, it was yet to be refined.

Kuja's gaze was drawn to the mage's large, beautiful blue-black wings. Two folded them slightly back when Kuja looked at them, and the silver-haired man laughed quietly as he praised the child's control over them. "Come with me, Black Waltz no. 2," he whispered sweetly, his hand already moving to take the mage's. "There is an element you absolutely must meet."

*~*

_Air!_

Two laughed in delight as he scrambled along the roof, feeling the glorious wind embracing him. Kuja smiled a little as the mage slid down to the edge, where he peered over and gasped as he saw how high up they were. Kuja had taken him up to one of the flatter parts of the roof of the castle for the experiment, and though Two was surprised to see how distant the ground was, he did not appear afraid. Of course, the child had never fallen from a great height before, and Kuja hoped he would not today.

The silver one was seated comfortably in the center of the square, legs and arms crossed, casually observing the antics of the energetic Black Waltz. He let him play for a little while more, then called him over and pointed at another block of roofing a little ways away. Kuja knew the distance between the two squares was not very great, but impossible for a small child to leap unaided. He spoke to the mage in soft tones, making sure he understood, pronouncing the words verbally and sending the command to him mentally as well. "Do you see that piece of roofing coming loose? Bring me that."

Two nodded and ran almost off the edge of the block before stopping. He then looked down, blinking at the yards of emptiness barring the way. He, too, knew it was quite a distance to jump, but the foolish boy was ready to try it. He readied himself to spring before he heard a sharp command from the direction of the silver-framed creature he had left behind.

_No, not like that. Use your wings._

...Wings?

A ripple of foreign energy traveled through his wings, and Two gasped, grabbing one of them and staring at it, surprised.

_Your wings._

...My wings?

Yes. Open your wings.

Wings...

Two forced them open and gave a little cry as the wind pushing against him thrust him across the divide and sent him sprawling on his face against the abrasive roofing of the second block. He sat up and rubbed at a scrape on his cheek, then looked around him for the source of the energy that had pushed him. Seeing no conscious piece of matter that could have done it, he cautiously looked at the mass of blue-black feathers behind his shoulder, and reached back to hold the edge of one again.

_...Wings?_

He scampered to retrieve the piece Kuja had described to him. It was like a heavy shingle, or a chip of a very large piece of armor. He tugged it free, listening to the soft, deep mutterings that echoed through his mind a minute after, then shrugged the peculiar feeling off. Two did not know what Eidolons were. He stood up, holding the piece to his chest, and walked back to the divide to cross back over. The wind was against him this time though, and he was blown backwards. The little mage yelped and began to thrash, panicked.

_Use your wings!_

It was a blend of instinct, resourcefulness and heavy commands from Kuja that got him to right himself and push forward with his wings against the air, forcing them to drag him higher into the air and then lower him to beside Kuja. He dropped the piece and gasped for breath, but his eyes held a thrilled sparkle and he did not drop to the ground just yet. The warrior smiled, kicking the piece of roofing aside without looking at it, and spoke to the Waltz in his silver tones. "Very good. Do you like flying? Hover, child, but _do not stray far_." Kuja pressed the order hard into the mage's memory. Two could not nod, only gaze at Kuja with brilliant yellow eyes and smile beneath the shadows.

_Wings! Flying..._

Yes. You fly well, dear Waltz.

"I fly..."

"Yes."

The wind had its own song that Two was now determined to learn and master.

---

Please review? Pleeease? Do a good deed! AA


	4. Unstable

The disclaimers in chapters 1 and 3 apply to chapter 4, so I don't have to write them over again, right!?

I rewrote some of chapter 4 because it was baaaad. @@ Now it's not as bad. Anyway, read 'n stuffs.

---

Two sat cross-legged at one end of the arena, cracking his knuckles and sighing with boredom. It felt like hours had past since he had been ushered in and the guards had disappeared to look for a suitable target monster for a battle. Kuja was present today, sitting in his favorite seat with a look of somewhat drowsy thoughtfulness, as well as a few guards and men in white robes. When he had entered, the mage had resolved to do his best, as he might receive some praise from Kuja, and he absolutely loved being praised, but now time had worn off most of his enthusiasm. He hoped the battle would be quick so he could go back to wandering the halls in search of something to hold his interest for a while.

Kuja had boosted his already rapid growth, and he now looked almost fully grown. He had become a handsome, strong young man, albeit an arrogant and narcissistic one. His wings were large and powerful, and his eyes were narrower, darker, more cutting and resentful, like a proper Black Waltz's. His magic had been refined and strengthened through Kuja's training, and now it was basically just a matter of psychological preparation...

Two had almost fallen asleep by the time the opposite gates creaked open. He started and sprang to his feet, brushing a little of the dust off his robes and preparing to meet whatever stinky, hairy creature the guards were allowing him to annihilate. He loved fighting the monsters... the satisfaction he gained from killing them was most pleasing, and he thirsted for the silver warrior's praise. Normally, he would leap to attacking it as soon as the guards got out of the way, sometimes before, but today he stopped short and stared as the two blonde guards stopped dragging their charge into the dungeon's arena and now stood holding the struggling creature by the shoulders.

His enemy today was a small, thin, and frantically struggling girl with gnarled black hair and eyes darker than the sky on a moonless midnight, with her hands tied and dignity shattered. The guards dropped her into the dust, and she writhed miserably, trying to get her legs underneath her. Two's breath caught as she finally managed to sit up, coughing painfully, and the guards left through the gate again.

"She worked as a spy against Alexandria," explained some high-ranking Alexandrian soldier up above, "gathering information and relaying them to our enemies through her older brother, a known spy. She and her younger brother were caught with this man, and both have been charged with treason. She is to be executed immediately."

"Go on." Kuja's voice floated softly down from his perch. "Do as you must."

Two looked desperately up at Kuja, then back to the girl, who had noticed him and now stared at him with large and frightened eyes. She was a _child_... eleven or twelve years old, he suspected... how could he slaughter her like one of the dozens of dumb monsters that had died here before? What crime could an innocent child commit that would deserve her a bloody and painful death?

_But, I..._

His hands were shaking. He did not need to look at the silver one to feel the dark scowl coming from that direction.

_Go ahead. Just kill her. It isn't difficult, a single spell will do..._

Two could tell from the despair in her eyes that the girl knew what her destiny was now. She had heard tales of terrible demons shrouded in darkness that senselessly murdered all creations of light through their use of evil powers, and knew that this was precisely the kind of creature those stories spoke of. Her only choice was to resign herself to destruction, but she hesitated to make that decision, for the belief in a bright and beautiful future for children like herself had not yet given out. If she lived, she might become a brilliant scholar, a mighty general, an adventurer who was the first to climb to the peak of a mountain that reached high above the clouds...

_I... I can't!_

What are you talking about, fool? She is no different than the other souls you have destroyed. Go now, bring her to her miserable fate...

But monsters don't have...

She was shivering violently, tears of hopelessness forming at the corners of her eyes. She moved her lips as if to whisper, or perhaps to scream, "No..."

_KILL HER!_

Two's wings lifted him into the air, where he hovered as his dark magic began to rise in him. He screamed inwardly as he felt the sparks of power flowing from his hands, and then pointed them at the child, praying for something to either come and kill her quickly before he was forced to or to strike him down before the spell was complete. There was a surge of power, and flame poured from his hands, searching out the link between the two and grasping it, exploding along its length and consuming one in the black fire of death. She screamed as the flame razed her skin, biting into her and burning through her flesh to the promising soul inside.

The mage closed his eyes and dropped back to the ground where he staggered, dizzy and anguished. He felt nauseous. He needed to get away... away from her cries and the sickening pain of reality...

_Why? Why why why why why!?_

Kuja was laughing.

_Good, Waltz Two... very good..._

He was less in love with Kuja's praise for the destruction of consciousness.

*~*

"Don't you even take it off to go to sleep?"

"Nah... What if someone came in while I was sleeping?"

"You'd supposedly knock 'em dead with your good looks."

"Why're you getting so curious about my face all of a sudden? Ke-he-he."

"Oh, you! Hmph!" The guard stomped off and Two smiled somewhat, adjusting his beloved hat and leaning further back on the lounge couch.

He shouldn't have been so relaxed. His chest still ached and his soul still trembled with anguish from the act he had been forced to commit not too long ago, but by some power he was able to act as if he had completely forgotten the whole incident. He felt somewhat comforted that he was able to carry on, but was beginning to feel as if he wasn't quite in control anymore. Perhaps he had never been in control. But such thoughts frightened him so much he would shove them out of his mind and live on meaninglessly.

Maybe the monsters he had killed before had souls, and he had been able to kill them without thinking twice. Perhaps they had gone through the same despair and agony the child had, or more. If that was the case, he felt just a little better, and a little worse, but still functioned the same as he had before, dumb and naive as ever.

He was being tortured by misery, hiding behind the mask of an easygoing, suave young man. Now he was either wretchedly depressed or tremendously angry, much like a human teenager, but for far different, darker reasons. Nothing seemed to comfort him except the sweet oblivion that came in the world of dreams, but then, there were still nightmares of the burning half-corpses of screaming children tearing at his robes. Sometimes, though, a touch of beautiful magic would descend on them and make them whole again, and Two would turn and smile at his compassionate, kind, and loyal friend, who vanished into nothingness as he returned to reality...

The sound of something sweet and placid echoing through the long halls of the castle reached his ears. He looked up, startled, the noise almost new to him. It was mellow and soothing, drawing him to his feet, and there was something distinctly golden about it.

_...What's that...? It sounds... like the ringing of a bell._

Two listened for a little longer as the sound began to fade. He suddenly began to panic, not wanting to lose its wonderful, simplistic excellence like he had lost everything else. He began to run, picking up off the ground after a moment and carefully navigating through the statues and tapestries. It led him on, withdrawing just as quickly as Two approached. He was not keeping track of where he was going, so occupied with pursuing the sound, and was naturally quite startled when he realized that he had almost bumped into Kuja, back from riding, and that the silver one's face was darkened with a terrible scowl.

"Why... What are you doing... in this part of the castle...!?" Kuja whispered, shaking slightly. Two dropped to the ground immediately, shocked by the ever-composed warrior's sudden burst of rage.

"I was following the sound..."

He was not allowed to finish. Kuja knocked him to the ground and snarled, then kicked him. "You disobedient little wretch! How dare you defy my orders! You could have _ruined_..."

"I was just..." He winced. "...I was just... I thought it would be..."

Kuja was carrying a crop he had been using while riding, and in his bout of fury saw nothing wrong with brutally striking the mage with it. "Back to your room!" he shouted angrily, kicking Two again and spitting on him before stalking away.

Two hissed bitterly, eyes burning, curled up against the pain and humiliation. An intense, master-soldier loathing was born in his blackened heart, and he lay there snarling insults and curses at Kuja under his breath for a little while longer before crawling away to his room, where he flung himself upon his bed and brought himself to silence.

No tears would come to quench the hateful fire that raged within him, perhaps because he was too proud, or already sealed from his softer side that yearned for the innocent days of happiness and glorious freedom in the silver heaven of ancient days. He was too angry and too miserable to think about anything anymore, anything except how upset he was about losing something again, and how much he hated Kuja for robbing him.

---

Kindly review... pleeze...? Pleeeeeze??


	5. Questioning

[Insert Disclaimer From Chapter 1 Here, Iffun You Wanna.]

*walks in carrying Chibi-Black Waltz no. 2 on her back* Ahhh... finally got up the energy and determination to write it. It's over... only 5 chapters long. There was kinda a lot of stuff crammed into this chapter, but it's functional, and I think it's somewhat decent. Please read on, enjoy, and review me. oo *puts Chibi-Two down*

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Two had seen the princess of Alexandria once before, while he was hiding behind a curtain by a long hall that ran along the full length of the castle. A few female soldiers were escorting a group of three very unalike humans; the familiar Kuja, in his usual pastel-colored costume, an older woman Two found quite repulsive, in the fancy clothes of a queen, and an elegant, slender and graceful young woman with a beautiful face, dressed in a meticulously designed dress of soft, flowing white fabric. Kuja was speaking with the queen while the princess followed meekly behind, eyes cast downward. Something about the way her head was turned, however, told the mage that she was not a silly little child who was unconcerned with the affairs of senior powers, and that she was listening intently. He continued to watch them progress down the hall and turn into a room on the other side, the forbidden side, and gave a little sigh of disappointment, turning to wander off in search of something else to amuse himself with for a while.

He had explored every corridor in his wing, and was once again bored with life and becoming destructive. One problem was that Kuja brought him to the dungeon for battles less often, and thereby cutting off the route by which the winged mage vented his frustration. When he did get the chance to fight, he was especially bloodthirsty, and would kill anything Kuja allowed him to. He was no longer picky about whether he ended the waking days of souls or not. And he had also become even more irritable and quick to anger than ever before, for reasons lost to him. It was probably because of old age, though none but Kuja would believe it, perceiving Two to be in his prime, young, vigorous and passionate in almost all ways.

Two had grown out of slaughtering furniture as he had when he was in a child in a bloody mood, and now turned his aggression towards the new toys Kuja had conveniently scattered all over his territory. They were almost human in appearance, standing upright with the correct number of limbs and a head in the right place. They seemed a little awkward, their walk being a waddle, their clumsy hands incapable of doing much. What made them different was that their faces were hidden behind an eternal veil of blackness, an immortal shadow the brims of their steeple-crowned hats cast, impenetrable by anything except the brilliant yellow light of their eyes, their appearance so similar to one the mage knew well and adored. When Two had first seen them, his heart had nearly burst with joy. He was no longer a lone misfit among the dull-eyed human populous. At last, creatures like those he had dreamed of had appeared, and he would no longer be alone!

But when he tried to talk to them, they would not respond. He thought at first they were ignoring him, and tried vainly to wring a response out them, desperately trying to gain their attention. After what seemed like ages of fruitless efforts, he lost his patience and burned one to cinders. Kuja had been watching him, and told him with a laugh that these creatures were mindless dolls he had designed a long time ago to serve as his army, and that he would never find a conscious one in the bunch. Two was humiliated and filled with even more hate for the silver one he was unable to express. When his battles became less frequent, he unleashed that bitter black magic upon the dumb black mages, becoming somewhat satisfied with watching a little of their enormous mockery of his existence fall to pieces.

It was the worst time for Kuja to lock him into his room unexpectedly for a full night and most of another. He woke one morning to find the door firmly sealed and no possible means of escape. He had learned to let himself slide between matter to new locations, but was unable to use that method to transfer himself to somewhere out of his field of vision. He tried to knock the door down, but it would not come, and an attempt at burning it down made him realize there was something preventing him from using his magic inside the small room. He tore at the walls in desperation before collapsing, exhausted, and curling up by the door to wait for someone to save him or the end of the world to come.

The solution turned out to be the former, and his savior, Kuja himself, could not help but chuckle at the state the room and mage were in, particularly the mage. The fingers of his gloves were torn up and stained with blood, his sleeves were now ragged and he had begun molting blue-black feathers at an astonishing rate. Two had to restrain himself from leaping at Kuja and ripping his internal organs out when he first saw the ridiculing expression below the waves of silver hair. He decided against this when Kuja offered him some new clothes, a shower and a comb.

*~*

"The princess has been kidnapped?" Two asked, pulling on his new gloves.

"Yes." Kuja smiled as the mage turned and began carefully preening his wings. "She is very important to the kingdom and must be retrieved immediately."

"I know that," the mage snorted, fondly smoothing down a few beautiful feathers. "Why are you telling me this? Am I going to be the one to go out and retrieve her?"

"Of course," the silver one went on in a soothing voice. "You are the only one strong enough to complete such a difficult task."

Two smiled fiercely under the blackness, beating his wings against the still air once. No matter how much he hated Kuja, he loved being flattered. "Fine, fine. I'll do it."

"Zorn and Thorn will fly you to Dali, where the kidnappers are resting. A young man with a tail, an older knight, and a small black mage, a defect, one of the older models. They are quite formidable..."

The Black Waltz stood up and gave an exaggerated bow. "Don't worry, my liege, I won't have any trouble killing them. You've seen how I fight."

"Like a child having a tantrum," Kuja muttered under his breath, but then went on, all smiles. "I advise you to be on your guard. They have already killed Black Waltz no. 1..."

Two dropped the comb and stared at him. "_What_?"

Kuja's grin widened, amused. "They have defeated Black Waltz no. 1."

Of course. Kuja had always called him Black Waltz no. 2, so there obviously must have been a Black Waltz no. 1. But he was still shocked, and then enraged. There was... had been another like him. Not just a black mage puppet. A _Black Waltz_. Maybe this other one was tall and narrow-eyed like him, with the same wings of darkness... and Kuja had sent him off and let him _die_ before Two had ever gotten to meet him! What Two would have given for a brother... "You... you... my... could've... why!?" Two gasped, eyes flashing angrily.

Kuja just kept smiling. "You wouldn't have liked him, anyway. He was ugly and weak. Quite weak. You would have grown tired of him and probably killed him, too."

_Don't,_ Kuja scolded when Two started to protest. _Do you doubt me?_

"No... I mean... yeah," Two muttered, confused and miserable.

"Good," Kuja chucked. "I trust you will get the job done."

"I will..." His yellowish eyes seemed to almost glaze over as Kuja struck down and gently swept away the last of his lonely longings.

*~*

"Get off the airship. We have arrived."

"Terrible, your snoring is. Sleep a wink, we could not."

"Whatever," Two muttered, sitting up and looking around rather wearily, brightening considerably when he realized how different this place was from the castle. He had wandered into a few courtyards before, and gone up on the roof, but he had never been this outside. There were rolling fields, forests, mountains... he was delighted. A sharp poke at the back of his mind rather like a rather like that of an annoyed silver-haired warrior made him drop the poetry and look around with a different intent. "The kidnappers are around here?"

"Over there, standing by the cargo ship," one of the jester twins yawned. Two peered in that direction, picking up his quarry's vague movements. He was not exactly bursting with enthusiasm at finding them, as he still needed sleep, and would have appreciated having a quick sightseeing tour, but Kuja kept prodding at him.

_Come, dear Waltz. Go and slaughter them! You know you desire it..._

The wind felt so much better here. He opened his wings and caught a breeze, then began leisurely making his way towards the group of unsuspecting humans. They were so unsuspecting that they did not notice him until the last minute, and, appreciating their startled looks, he gave an impressive series of dimensional slips to get them to gawk even more. They were all there, the young man with a tawny tail, a knight clad in heavy, second-rate armor, an extremely small black mage dressed in peculiar clothes, and the beautiful, beautiful princess, now dressed in much plainer clothes, but still obviously the princess.

"Princess Garnet," he called sweetly, pleased with her gasp and step back, "the queen is waiting for you at the castle!"

The young man snarled and stepped back into a fighting stance. "You were all sent by the castle!?"

"What? What are you talking about!?" asked one of his companions, the knight.

"You were all unconscious from the blizzard. He said he was a Black Waltz!" shouted the tailed one.

"Are you to one who defeated No. 1?" Two looked in his direction. A small child screamed Brother!, but he ignored it, and raised his voice haughtily, "I am Black Waltz no. 2!"

_You are stronger..._

"My power, magic, and speed make me far superior to No. 1!" Two sneered, enjoying their stares. "Resistance is futile," he hissed, before turning back to Garnet. "Come, Princess. The queen awaits!"

"No! I will not return to the castle!" she cried, surprisingly courageous. The mage was only slightly taken aback.

"Come with me, or you'll regret it!" He gave her such a wicked smile that she saw through his eyes that she gave a barely audible gasp and stepped back, behind the young man.

"Wait! I, Steiner, shall escort the princess back to the castle!" shouted the knight, looking between the winged mage and the tailed one.

Two turned that smile upon the older man. _What a fool!_ He snickered at the open display of naiveté. "You think I care? I won't let you stand in the way of my mission!"

_Kill... them...!!_

"Princess, stay there while I kill the others!" He felt along the wind and braced himself. "I won't let you get in my way!"

A shift came in the rotation of the worlds, and he flung himself along it, ramming into the younger man who gave a yelp of surprise and tumbled over backwards. When he turned, he saw fire flowing freely from the hands of the little mage, who then pointed it towards him and sent it blazing towards the Waltz with a cry of "Fire!". Two would have been able to easily dodge the attack, had he not been so surprised to hear the mage speak, and winced a little as the flame ran along the length of his wings. Still, it was not too severe... The little one had no idea of the sort of pain that could be evoked with black magic. Two chuckled.

"This is how you use Fire!" he laughed, feeling flame rising in him, true, ruthless, malicious flame. He traced a circle around the group of fighters in the his mind, leaving the princess out for a reason, and let the fire lose. The three were lost in its hateful, deadly grasp, and he savored their cries, blissfully happy in his arrogant way.

They were brave, if not stupid, to keep fighting him. The mage managed to place a spell of fire on the knight's blade, and the older man rushed forward, slashing him with a great show of strength. Two was knocked breathless, but recovered, beat his wings a few time to regain his balance, and let them taste his Thunder.

Even the darkest, most painful electricity could not persuade them to give up. The princess waved her magician's rod and summoned a wave of light to heal them... oh, white magic, detestable white magic. The small mage kept calling his pathetic little fire attack, perhaps the only spell he knew, and being blasted by Two's superior spells. Sword strikes came... Two did not keep track of how many. The little tailed one, a thief, cut him across the chest with twin daggers... and promptly met a wave of angry fire, a far more powerful spell, fueled by anger and an ancient drive to return pain delivered to him... Fira.

Time passed. The battle was long... surprisingly long. Two had not expected them to last this long. Perhaps it was the princess's Cure spells, or something else lost to him, but they were still strong and he was weakening... It was getting harder to breathe, and his wings were weary...

As he was fending off an attack from the knight, the thief caught him by surprise. He turned in time to see the young man charging him, and gave a startled cry of pain as the thief sunk a dagger into his chest.

_Ha ha ha ha... Too bad._

Burns and bleeding wounds, wings that screamed in agony. It was too painful, and he collapsed. He was being burned again... he already lost from the silver heaven, and now this world was rapidly retreating as well. He would have gasped with disbelief, but he found himself choking.

_No... how... how can I lose? I can't... I'm... I'm invincible..._

Pain... pain... and now loneliness again.

He was starved of air, with only that one breath left, and he let it out, despairing, with the softest sob of anguish.

"Wh-Why...!?"

*~*

There was no reality in that world. There were no souls. No light. What there was... was pain. Endless pain, endless agony, endless torment in the pit of darkness. There was mourning, there was resignation.

This one did not mourn or resign to be tortured for the rest of existence. There was fighting, bitter fighting, struggling against the pain. Denial of the pain. There was no end to the resistance, there was no point of giving up, only pain, pain, and blind fighting.

At times, there was despair... and something just a step away from giving up...

---

Well, like I said, I appreciate reviews... I'm sure Chibi-Two will as well! ^^ That's all for Touch of Flame... I be startin' Tears of Starlight soon enough, cuz Chibi-One will be so much fun to write about. oo; We shall meet again...


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